


served cold, with a warm smile.

by shitfuck edgelord (dragonflame3333)



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Child Abuse, Gen, Persona Awakening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 10:25:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11689719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonflame3333/pseuds/shitfuck%20edgelord
Summary: akechi goro knows his worth better than anyone. knows that even if he tries, no one's gonna love him.(child abuse tag not super explicit.)





	served cold, with a warm smile.

It starts with toys.

Plastic figures in matching outfits, their livery both cheesy and charming.

Just like on TV, the figures pose and are moved, reenacting battle scenes with heroic purpose. A child's attempt at ventriloquism sees them brought to life, character voices and sound effects abundant.

"Take that!" the villain yells, with an evil laugh tacked on for good measure.

One of the figures staggers back, arm popped off and lying uselessly by his side. He groans in pain, which comes out as more of a loudly inconvenienced "Ow, that hurt!" than the agonized howl that was no doubt intended.

"No! This can't be!" screams one of the sentai, holding his injured comrade in his arms.

There is no subtlety in the lines, but that's fine; the characters are animated with the passion and exuberance only kids can bring.

Akechi Goro watches the scene from his seat a few feet away. His eyes light up at every step the heroes take, at every shouted attack and every dramatic pose. He grins, because he too has watched this series (what child hasn't?) and loved it.

"Can I play too?" Akechi Goro asks, his voice perhaps a bit more loud than he intended. His hands eagerly await the hard feel of shaped plastic, and his eyes, his eyes, they shine so bright. He is seven years old and tiny, his physique more in line with a preschooler than a child halfway through his second year of elementary--his pretty, feminine features only accentuating this further.

His foster brother pauses, toys still in hand. After a moment, he nods, and hands him the large, Vader-esque figure in his left hand. "Okay, but you have to be the bad guy!"

An hour later, Akechi Goro has yet to win. This is because, as his foster brother explains matter-of-factly, the heroes always win and the villains always lose!

But, Akechi Goro argues, isn't it boring if the good guys always win? Isn't the story more interesting if the heroes have some trouble and the bad guy is scary enough to win?

...Furthermore, isn't it just sad for the villain?

His foster brother frowns, brows knitting together in confusion and anger. "No," he says, volume rising with every word, "you're the bad guy! Bad guys always lose! Always!"

And he rips the figure out of his hand, just as his parents rush into the room to investigate the noise. When they see the sight before them, they turn towards Akechi Goro with dual looks of disapproval.

"Goro, you shouldn't touch other's things without permission," says the father.

Akechi Goro's eyes widen, and he hurries to stammer out an explanation, no, sir, we were playing together, he let me borrow it--

When his foster brother rushes to his parents and says, "Mama, he stole my toys! He was being mean!"

The mother's eyes narrow, and she hauls Akechi Goro up off the floor. Her grip is iron, and her nails dig into his arm. Pulling him close, she hisses at him never to lay a hand on her son's things ever again, and tosses him back onto the floor.

Akechi Goro lays there, stunned, for a moment before remembering eyes upon him and flees, back to the tiny bedroom he's so graciously been given.

 

He stays in that house for a scant few months extra, before they decide they've had enough of him and send him off to the next. There Akechi Goro attempts to acclimatize himself to his new family, only for something of the same to occur.

It goes like this for years.

Akechi Goro learns quickly his worthlessness. He learns to take abuse with a smile, to be grateful for what he's been given, lest he be seen as rude. He learns to shut himself off from others, who are only there to use him.

He wonders why people even bother fostering him if they obviously have no interest in taking care of another child. But this, too, he learns eventually: people keep him around not because they want him, but for the reputation.

"Have you heard about the Ueno family? I heard they're fostering a troublesome little boy about their daughter's age."

"Yes, how kind of them! You'd think the boy would be more grateful, but I suppose boys are like that at that age."

Akechi Goro overhears conversations like this all the time. He wants to tell them, aren't I grateful, and what have I done wrong, and why won't anybody love me?

But he does not. Because he know no one will answer.

Reputation is key, Akechi learns very early on, and he learns to nurture his religiously.

  
Study, study, study. Good grades are key to a good future. A good future means being successful and popular and loved.

He studies relentlessly, and when he's finally able to get into a prep school on scholarship, he learns simple grades aren't enough to make people love him.

He begs the school to let him stay there even as his living situation changes, and resolves to hide it as best he can.

(Secretly, he picks up a part-time job washing dishes in the back of a restaurant. He's too young to work, but he needs the money, so under the counter it is.)

Akechi Goro goes back to the drawing board. Reads pop culture magazines and surfs the web looking for an ideal aesthetic. Something chic. Something that will use his looks to his advantage. He gets a haircut and a change in wardrobe. Teaches himself to sew, to tailor his clothes precisely to his measurements, and to iron, to keep his clothes pressed.

After all, he has an image to maintain.

  
One day, he is studying in his room, mechanical pencil scratching painstakingly perfect handwriting into his note journal. He tunes out the murmur of the TV in the background as his foster parents--this time, a couple with no children who prefer him quiet and invisible--watch the local news.

"And next, we have district candidate Masayoshi Shido! Thank you for coming in today for an interview, we know you must be a busy man."

"No, no, I should be thanking you for allowing me on your esteemed program. I seek to educate the people of this district on my goals as transparently as possible, and it is news outlets like yours that bring the people what they need."

Akechi starts, pencil dropping from his hand to clatter on the wood floor. That voice is familiar. That name is familiar.

His eyes narrow, and he listens closely.

"I love this country and its people, and I especially love this district. I want to bring peace and prosperity to all, starting with our youth. Young people are the future, and if I can inspire them even a little with my words, then I believe we will have a brighter tomorrow."

(He never wanted you, only fame and power, whispers a voice at the back of his mind.)

"Bullshit," Akechi curses under his breath. "You don't care about young people. You abandoned your own son, you piece of human garbage."

(He used your mother. He only sees people as tools, as toys for him to break.)

Masayoshi Shido had never paid attention to his son--or rather, never paid enough attention to the people whose lives he had ruined to realize he even had a son.

(You're insignificant. He doesn't even know you exist, and if he did, he still wouldn't acknowledge you as his own.)

Akechi's hands grip the desk tightly, so tightly that his knuckles are bleached and bloodless. He hates him. He hates him so fucking much.

(Maybe if you make yourself useful, he'll want you.  
Maybe if you do well enough, he'll love you.)

Akechi grits his teeth. The interviewer is laughing at some light joke or other that Shido has said, some sanitized and family-friendly quip designed to make him seem more likable to viewers.

(That's a joke. No one will ever love you. No one will ever want you.)

(It comes as no surprise to Akechi that the voice in his head is his own.)

  
One day, the world shifts.

He's walking down Central Street when it happens. It doesn't take him long to realize something's off. He's always been hyper-perceptive. Always had to be. The hum of traffic, the sound of chatter, the people around him have all stopped.

Akechi Goro is alone.

But then, isn't he always?

He hurries down the stairs to the train platform and is greeted by a nightmarish sight.

The subway has been transformed into a red-and-black hellscape, twisted tendrils of an unknown substance crawling up and down the walls and floor like a shadowy ivy. Train tracks spread almost haphazardly along the floor, with no end in sight, and the tunnels continue seemingly endlessly, illuminated ominously by flickering red light. A wind howls, but that doesn't make any sense--there shouldn't be any wind underground, and it shouldn't sound like--like screaming, wailing, moaning voices, what the _fuck!_

Almost of their own accord, his legs begin moving towards the tracks. What are you doing, he wants to ask himself, stop, something is seriously wrong here, stop, _stop!_

But his body does not listen. It continues its descent off the platform and into the dimly lit tunnels, and as he turns the corner, he sees out of the corner of his eye something dark and huge and oozing ramming into his shoulder, and oh fuck that hurts, and--

Akechi Goro screams as liquid shadow looms over him, its misshapen arms and grotesque mask the only defined characteristics of its constantly shifting mass. He screams, a choked rasp of a scream that is quickly cut off as it hauls him up by his neck, claws digging into his skin, drawing blood and forcing the air from his lungs.

Akechi Goro feels his mind go blank for a moment, and then he hears a voice.

"Poor thing. A broken, abandoned toy trying desperately to put itself back together. But you were broken from the start, my dear. You crave power, yes? The power to hurt, and the power to not be hurt."

Yes, Goro screams silently, his body burning with pain and bloodlust. He wrests the Shadow's claws from his neck and drops to his knees, howling, as a mask begins to form on his face.

"Then you know what to do. Form a contract with me, and I shall give you the power to sow the seeds of chaos in the heart of man. Take your vengeance as you please. I am thou, thou art I... You and I, we were born to be villains. Let your hatred run free!"

With shaking fingers, Goro grips the mask and wrenches it from his face violently, vicious black metal biting into his hands. A stream of blood runs down his face and stains his ash-brown hair sanguine as he licks metal off his lips and roars: "Awaken, Loki!"

  
With power comes freedom.

Akechi Goro is a prodigy.

Akechi Goro is perfect.

Akechi Goro is loved by all.

  
He kills his foster parents first. Not the current ones; they'll come later, they're of use to him now, until he's built up his reputation enough to get by on police work and his website. The very first ones, the ones who taught him just how much his life is worth.

He laughs when the deed is done, and then laughs again after he 'solves' the mystery of how they died. Laughs a third time when the news outlet airs his interview of how he cracked the case.

"I'm sorry if this is a sensitive subject, but Akechi, we heard that the Akiyama family took care of you for a time after your mother's passing."

"Ah, yes. To be honest, that's the reason I wanted to figure out the truth so badly," the Akechi on screen says, clearly downtrodden. "I-I will be forever indebted to them after the k-kindness they showed me as a child."

The camera zooms in for a closeup of Akechi Goro's face. He sniffles, a single tear running down his face in the most photogenic sob a pretty teenage boy could possibly produce. "Forgive me for getting emotional," he says, and dabs at his face with a handkerchief. "Is there anything else you would like to know?"

Akechi laughs, and laughs, and laughs. What bad acting. They bought it, of course, and the concept of the intelligent and witty boy detective Akechi Goro, whose pretty face carried a sensitive and emotional heart passionate about justice and the truth sold like hotcakes. He was famous practically overnight.

Yes, Goro thinks to himself, still smiling. This was all according to plan. He would continue to build his reputation, and in the long run, become closer to Masayoshi Shido. He would help build his father's empire... and then crush him as soon as he'd reached the top.

He would be loved, and he would have his revenge.

How's that for having your cake, and eating it too?


End file.
